Sunday, January 03, 2010

On Thursday, I was walking the dogs. We were just nearing the end of the street. Steps away from the park. The dogs were pulling and I sped up. Stepping onto the grass, assuming it was less slippery than the pavement, I fell. One leg under me, one leg outstretched. I managed to keep both leashes in my hand. I got up. We continued our walk.

On Friday, I had started the car. The dogs and I were headed over to Lucy's house for a playdate with Wolf. I left the dogs in the house while I spread a blanket in the backseat of my car. We were running a bit late. I was dragging, thanks to a 4:30 am bedtime. I would make up time by running back into the house. Across a patch of ice. And onto my knee.

This morning, I skated. And I skated fairly well. There were just five minutes left in the session. I busied myself doing footwork. Intricate, yes. But not jumps. Not spins. I pushed myself through the footwork sequence, knees bending as they should, blades cutting into the ice quietly. It was easy, until it wasn't. Until I leaned too far back, ran out of blade, fell hard on my backside. It was startling, really. I hardly ever fall. And when I do, it isn't like that: not on footwork, not so violently and unexpectedly. I should have hit my head. I didn't.

That's how I ended my 2009. And how I started my 2010. By falling down hard. And getting back up.

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Hi. I'm A.

Born, raised, educated in the Midwest, I am such a Midwesterner. So Midwestern, if you will.

I am: a blogger of 8+ years, forever searching for my next athletic challenge, hopelessly overscheduled and always, always eating.

I started So Midwestern right after I graduated from college, hoping to chronicle my transition to adulthood. Graduate school, four half marathons, two new nephews, three apartments, a trip to Africa, a sprinkle of heartbreak, dozens of unfinished knitting projects, four turns as a bridesmaid, 8,913 job applications and two full-time positions later: I’m fairly convinced that the day when I feel like a legitimate, full-fledged grownup will never come. So I’ll just keep on blogging.

I write about a little bit of everything and a lot of nothing. Toss my ramblings with a few pictures, a touch of swearing and an endless appreciation for the beauty that is David Beckham and you have So Midwestern. Welcome.